Untitled
by c l o u d i g a t o r
Summary: She was not to be trusted. She was to be trusted. They were to be trusted. They were not trusted.  FENRIS/OC   FIRST CHAPER UP.


She padded across the floor, her breath faint and her body light. Silent is what she must be, and silent she is. The melting candles make her shadow dance against the old walls behind her. The hallway is narrow and riddled with oak doors on either side. She pulls her neckerchief over her face, preparing herself for the inevitable. She knows that her task is complete, and now she must depart.

* * *

><p>Aveline walks about the Hightown of Kirkwall, looking down alleyways and streets as she passed them. The vines that grew up the white buildings glimmered in the moonlight, their veins pulsating with life. The night was quiet, only filled with her footsteps and breathing, and if she listened hard enough she could hear the scurrying of rats. Her patrol only lasts an hour more and then she can go home with her bed beckoning to her.<p>

_Crash!_ Goes the splintering glass as its glittering shards falling to the cold stone ground. Above is a woman, her arms spread out like an eagle, one leg extended forward, the other behind her, cape flapping about in the wind, leaping towards a red shingled rooftop. For a moment Aveline holds her breath, praying she would make it; but not before a scream pierces the air with deadly accuracy.

"My husband, _my husband!" _a woman shrieks. The caped woman stops, her figure shining in the moonlight, and turns back to the building in which she has just broken out of. Holding her hands together in what Aveline could perceive as a prayer, her mouth moves, but she speaks too softly for Aveline to hear. The woman who had been shrieking before has moved to the window, and is looking about furiously as to catch her beloved's murderer. Her eyed rest upon the luminous figure on the rooftop, and she screams, her voice filled with agony and rage. Aveline watches the caped figure turn and run across the rooftop, jumping down onto a stack of crates. The woman makes her getaway by turning down an alley, and she is gone.

* * *

><p>The woman stops and leans against the cold wall behind her, her chest heaving and her knee pulses in pain. It isn't as easy as it was anymore, that was for sure. Earlier, guards had come running, and she had to make the quick choice of jumping out the window. It was only luck that there happened to be a rooftop not five feet away from the window ledge. There was a woman though, on the street, which had seen her. If luck graced her again, that woman would forget everything she had seen this night. But that might have been pushing it. She pulls back her wet bangs form her forehead, and sighs into the sky. How free they were, stars. They twinkled in the moonlight, providing races with navigation and stories, free from misery and suffering.<p>

She continued walking, pacing herself so not to jostle her injured joint, and continued down the dark alley. A man stood near the end, his hood hiding his face from observers. He beckoned her over with a nod of his head, and she walked up to him. He handed her an item, a dagger, which was a forearm's length. It was encased with a jeweled handle, and the blade itself had intricate carvings winding up and down it. Her reflection appeared in the silver blade, and she quickly looked away.

"You did well," the man says, and places his hand upon her right shoulder. The woman stumbles under the sudden weight, and tries to steady herself by grabbing onto him.

"It is not as easy as it used to be," the woman replies. The man looks down to her knee, a troubling look pasted on his face.

"It has not healed yet?" he questions, almost to himself. The woman shook her head anyways, and takes a step back, distancing her from this man.

"The debt has been paid in full then? I may take my leave?" she asks, her voice drifting over to him. The man nods, and looks over to her. His beard peeks out from underneath the hood he wears, showing inch length gray hair.

"You never really owed me anything, dear," he whispers, a sad smile appearing on his aged face. He goes to take off his hood, but the woman quickly stops him.

"They will still be looking for me. They haven't seen my face, but they know my general appearance. If they turn down this alley and see me with you, you will be interrogated. I can't have that," she says. The man suddenly embraces her, and the woman's hands are uselessly hanging by her sides.

"Take care of yourself, eat well, and for Maker's sake, find a man, will you?" the man jokes. The woman softly chuckles as well, and hugs him back.

"Not in a million years, old man."

* * *

><p>Aveline was stuck. She should be following that woman; it was obvious she was connected to the other screaming woman. There was just something odd about her, the way she almost prayed after landing on the roof. She had armor on, maybe she was from another city's guard, or a rogue, maybe? She wander's down the street, stroking her chin thoughtfully. Ahead, another guard is running towards her.<p>

"Ma'am, there's been a murder!" he exclaims, pointing to where Aveline has just come from.

"Oh, yes, well, what is the status?" she asks, looking at him. He is young for being a guard, with his shaggy brown hair falling limply be his ears. His muddy brown eyes were wide with fear, and anger.

"A lord has been murdered this night, and his wife now screams in pain. There is no word on which the murderer is. No one has seen anything, really," the man reported. Aveline sighed, she knew who it was, but how was she to describe this caped woman? She disappeared before she could actually distinguish any memorable features. Maybe elven, perhaps? Or half-elf? Damned if she knew.

"Alright then," Aveline sighed, "take me to the scene."

* * *

><p>She bolts; the shouts of guards linger behind her, their metal armor clanging with each step they take. Her hand on her sword, she jumps up onto a wooden box, then a pole jutting out of a building, grabbing onto a higher up pole, before swinging herself onto the roofs of the city. Below the guards shout in dismay, frustrated that their prey jumped out of their line of sight. The woman chuckled to herself, before sprinting away, down to Lowtown. Below, a man smirks and adjusts his weapon.<p>

"Interesting."

* * *

><p>Aveline sighed; the man's throat was slashed, and it looked like he was knocked out with some kind of drug. She plopped down and rests her head in between her hands, shoulder's sagging.<p>

"Rough night, Aveline?"

Aveline whips around, searching to see who had invaded her home. In the corner, hiding in the shadow, was the dwarf, Varric. One hand in his hip, his eyes glinted, and Aveline knew, he had a story to tell.

"You should know better than to sneak into my house, Varric. Trouble stirs these days," Aveline retorts, once again sitting back onto her dining room chair.

"Oh, you know me. It doesn't take much for me to slip past your nets. Or, anyone else's, really," Varric replies, shrugging. Aveline shoots him a look, as if asking why he was here. Once again, Varric smirks, and sits down across from Aveline.

"There's been talk of a murder this night," Varric starts, gauging Aveline's reaction, who straightened up and looked directly and Varric.

"Yes?" she asks. Varric knows she has his attention.

"Yes, a murder. He was a higher up, wasn't he? Anyway, they way that it was all planned. Of course it could all be just a rumor; after all, I did hear this from a man in Lowtown."

"Get on with it," Aveline interrupted.

"Well, they say she got away via rooftop, yes?"

"Yes."

"Well, not half an hour ago, I saw someone, of the vague description given, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, and cape billowing in the wind. Seem like a lead to you?" Varric asked, triumphant smirk on her face.

"Yes, yes. Where about did you see this elusive leaping woman?"

"Lowtown, not too far from the entrance from Hightown, actually. Seems odd now that I think about it, having guards screaming in the alleys and streets, that I didn't get pulled aside for interrogation."

Aveline stands up and shrugs on her armor for the second time this night. She grabs her sword and briskly walks towards the door, but not before Varric stands in front of her.

"Let me come along. Who knows, maybe I'll spot her before you do," Varric says, and pulls Bianca into view. Aveline sighs, but lets him follow.

* * *

><p>The woman is by far exhausted. She takes a seat on a chair, in the Blooming Rose, hunching over, cupping her face in between her hands. She huffs as sweat slips down her red flushed face.<p>

"Can I get you anything, dear?" a woman asks, holding up a platter of assorted drinks and ales.

"No, no, I'm fine, thank you," the woman replies. The waitress huffs, and moves onto the next table, her hips swaying with every new step she takes. The woman shrugs off her limp cape, letting it fall silently around her worn and tired legs. Around her is the sound of jovial laughter and good times, among other things that should be left unsaid. Another waitress, younger than the last one, walks up, silently offering a glass of water. The tired woman took the mug gratefully and gulped it down hungrily. The waitress lips twitched into a smile, and she takes a seat from the unnamed assassin.

"How are you holding up? I have not seen you in weeks, what have you been doing to keep you so busy?" the waitress asks. The waitress, whose name is Adelaide, sits patiently, holding her hands together upon the table.

"This and that, friend, this and that," she responds, keeping her eyes fixed on the knots in the finely crafted table. Adelaide clicked her tongue, and went to grab the woman's hand.

"Don't think for a moment you have me fooled. I know when something is bothering you, or have you forgotten? We grew up together, you and I. Nothing slips past me," Adelaide says, but not before adding hastily, "Well, nothing to do with you at least." The woman opposite her laughs mirthfully, a full on grin gracing her lips.

"That it doesn't, Adelaide. To be honest I wasn't going to stop by, me planning on leaving and all, but I figured the next time you would see my you would give me a good wallop if I hadn't. So here I am." Adelaide gasps, but not before pinching the other woman's hand.

"Do not speak like that! To think _you_ would think I would hit you, let alone anyone else. Perish the thought," Adelaide scolds, speaking to the woman as if she were speaking to her own child.

"You know, I never understood why you chose to work here of all places," the woman comments, changing the subject quickly as not to upset her friend any more than she already had.

"Oh, come off that. It was the only place I could find work, and besides, Madam Lusine says only need to be a waitress, nothing more."

"I still think you could have gotten into something a little more exciting, like-"

"Like what, painting? Getting married? No, I am comfortable here. Will you need a place to stay, or are you leaving immediately after you've recovered?" Adelaide asks, cutting her friend off. She shakes her head.

"No, I'll be on my way in a couple of minutes," she replies, sighing, "I can't stay in one place for very long. Not now, at least."

Adelaide gets up, reaching down to pick up her long time friends cape, and places it on the table.

"Alright then," she says, "I'll prepare something for your journey. Stay put, else I'll tie you to that chair."

The woman, knowing her friend could be serious if put to the test, stays in her seat and pulls up her neckerchief (which had fallen when she slumped into her chair), relishing in the feeling of belonging and comfort. It is something that is short-lived for her, but she has always known that, always accepted it. Soon she would be rushing through the forest, wind whistling and screeching within her ears and hair, mud beneath her dirty feet, nature blossoming all around her. Yes, that was her paradise.

"Look at you, in a daydream," the first waitress, Viveka, commented. The woman looks up at her, eyebrows brought together, a frown hinting through the wrinkles in her neckerchief. "I've seen you here before, months, if not years apart, of course," Viveka continues, "your hair has grown out from last I saw it." The woman straightens herself from where she sits and looks Viveka in the eye.

"Do not work your way up to ask me something, _Viveka_. I will not be giving any information away today, so I would have you leave, if you would be so kind," the woman hisses, her eyes glaring up at the waitress. Viveka scoffs, and turns around, stalking off to serve other customers.

"Oh, what did Viveka want?" Adelaide asks, returning with a leather bag. Her friend doesn't reply, and only looks to another table. "No matter. Here, provisions for the next few days. I'm afraid that's all I could do." The woman stood and took the bag, and grasped Adelaide's shoulder.

"This is more than enough. Thank you, Adelaide. I will see in a month or so, if not a few weeks."

* * *

><p>Varric tromps along behind Aveline, Bianca safely wrapped in his fingers. The sun was beginning to peak out from over the city's rooftops, and birds, as scarce as they were, chirped at the dawn of a new day. For nearly three hours they searched for the assassin and so far there was neither a hair nor hide's tale of her. Aveline, who was beginning to become sluggish, trudges up ahead, eyes weary for any sign of the assassin.<p>

"Varric, I'm beginning to believe we should call it a day," Aveline comments.

"I'm beginning to think the same thing. Let's just check one more place first," he replies, stepping ahead of Aveline, leading the way.

* * *

><p>After walking a serried of pathways and alleys, Aveline finds herself in the Red Lamp District. She raises a brow at Varric, but chooses not to comment, if not for the sake of saving herself should his answer be less than inappropriate. Varric stalks toward a specific door; one Aveline knows all too well. On occasion she would find one of her guards here and have to drag him out to perform his more <em>constructive <em>duties. They walk in, and are immediately approached by a blonde waitress, wobbling while trying to balance a tray on the palm of her hand.

"Might I be able to help you, Messere?" she asks, approaching Varric. She must have not noticed Aveline.

"Actually, maybe you can; I'm looking for information on someone, you see. I was wondering if I could talk with someone who's made their rounds earlier this night." The woman perked up, eyes seemingly alert.

"Viveka was serving earlier today. I think she just went to her room, but I'll fetch her for you. Wait here for a moment." The woman scurried off, stumbling over the edge of a rug, almost tipping her tray.

"Skittish, that one," Aveline comments, watching the jittery young waitress run to the back of the brothel.

* * *

><p><em>Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear.<em>

Adelaide rushes down the hall and into Viveka's room. Those people, the guard, the dwarf, they see,ed to be looking for someone. Her thoughts drift to earlier before as she jolts straight as a stick, realizing who they were looking for.

_No…_

Adelaide now runs to Viveka's room, frantic, her eyes wide. "Viveka!" she shouts as she bursts into her fellow employee's living quarters. Said woman jumps, if not a good foot into the air, and turns to Adelaide.

"_What_ do you want?" she asks, and Adelaide flinches at her tone.

"Two people asked for you at the front, and no, before you say anything, I don't mean like _that._ They wanted to ask you about a _suspicious person_. Please, Viveka, I know you don't appreciate each other's presence, but _please,_ do not tell them about her," Adelaide pleaded. Viveka sniffles, and pats her cheeks, inspecting her plump lips in the mirror before her.

"I don't compromise information, Adelaide. You know that," Viveka replies. Adelaide raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. Viveka rolled her eyes, "Ugh, fine. Take me to them," she says.

* * *

><p>Haha, it took a while to update, so I'll apologize. Thank you for the review and the alerts and favourites!<p> 


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